


Who, With Pancakes, Is Poor?

by colazitron



Series: Isak and Even's Adventures in Cohabitation [4]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, seriously this is easily as sweet as a batch of pancakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 10:26:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11102610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: When Isak wakes up, it's to a warm, sunny day, and his boyfriend making pancakes. What could be better than that?





	Who, With Pancakes, Is Poor?

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I am in no way affiliated with the characters depicted herein or their creators. I made all of this up in my head and am only sharing it for entertainment purposes.
> 
> for isakvaltr

When Isak wakes, it's to warmth. That summer warmth he's longed for all winter, and when he blinks his eyes open drowsily, letting them flit around their room, it's sunny and bright. There's the sound of a pan or pot clattering gently against their stove top and then the sound of their new electric kettle boiling. It had been a birthday gift from Sana, because she's the worst and also the best, and it makes him smile as he stretches against the pleasantly cool sheets. The door to the balcony's open and the flimsy curtains Even hung up flutter a little in the breeze. Even keeps saying he's going to dip-dye them yellow, but so far he hasn't bothered. Isak suspects it's going to be just one of those things that'll probably never happen. There's the sizzle of something being fried then, and only moments later the sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon wafts over from the kitchen. Pancakes. A far more appropriate food to use cardamom in, Even keeps insisting.

There's a happy giggle bubbling in Isak's chest and he presses his lips shut against it if only because he doesn't want to break the peaceful white noise of Even making breakfast yet. Isak can't make out the song Even's playing from his phone – mindful of not being too loud and waking Isak, probably – but the way he's singing along to the occasional line, the low rumble of his voice fills Isak with helium-light happiness.

It's a summer morning where neither of them have to be anywhere, and Isak's sure he's never been this in love. With Even, with their life together, with the world at large, with the universe for letting him have this one blissfully perfect moment.

Thinking back to how hollow and lonely he felt only a year ago, how angry and helpless he was, seems like looking back on a different life now. There's nothing more wonderful that Even could give Isak than how he inadvertently reminded him how to love – to love Even, and his mother, and his friends, and himself most of all. Loving Even was inevitable, and even if Isak hadn't dived into the feeling head first like a man dying of thirst being offered a sip of water, it would have crept its way back into his heart anyway. How could it not? He just never thought one taste of it could unlock so many of the doors he'd kept so firmly shut.

Now that it fills him up from the tips of his hair to the tips of his toes, it doesn't matter if Even's not right there in bed with him, doesn't even matter if he's not in their kitchen making breakfast. If Even were on the other side of the world, Isak still wouldn't be waking up alone, because this love that fills him up and makes him feel like he could step off their balcony and be carried off by the summer breeze isn't going anywhere.

Isak knows a boyfriend isn't some sort of magical cure-all, that there are wounds too deep to heal this fast, but this is the kind of morning that makes him bask in the certainty that they _will_ heal, even as he wallows in the ache of uncertainty of whether Even feels quite as sure as he does. He doesn't doubt Even's feelings for him, but Even's loneliness sits deeper than Isak's had and it'll probably take Isak a little longer to coax it out of him. Even knows he's loved, at least, of that Isak is sure. And that's already the most important thing, isn't it?

“You're up,” Even says, pausing in the doorway with a plate of pancakes in one hand, two plates and forks in the other.

Isak stretches again and smiles up at him.

“Good morning,” he says. “I love you.”

Even laughs and sets the plates down, then crawls on top of Isak, their thin summer duvet pushed half off his body, and kisses him.

“I love you too,” he says, lowly and with that smile that makes his eyes glitter like a fucking Disney princess.

Isak tilts his head to brush their noses together, runs a hand through Even's hair and gentle fingers over his cheek before kissing him again.

When Even pushes up from the bed to go back to the kitchen after far too short a kiss, Isak makes a discontented noise, reaching out his arms for Even when he comes back to set two cups of tea down on their table.

“Baby,” he calls, whining only a little, and Even turns back to him with another laugh.

“Feeling needy?” he teases, but climbs back onto their bed, throwing himself onto his side of it, eyes fixed on Isak.

“You know when you wake up,” Isak says instead of replying, hand smoothing up over Even's chest to brush his thumb along the line of his jaw while his fingers move back into his hair, “and you're just happy?”

Even's grin softens into something sweeter, those Disney princess eyes of his almost enough to make Isak blush, as ridiculous as it is.

“Yeah,” he says, quietly. “Are you really happy today?”

“Mhm,” Isak hums in confirmation. “I'm so glad I met you, you know? It gave me that push to remember how to be a person. You can't be happy if you don't even feel like a person.”

Even's face crumbles into a frown immediately, anxious and hurt on Isak's behalf.

“I don't mean it's all you,” Isak goes on before Even can say anything. “Just… you were the push the set off a domino reaction. I still had to work for it, but it's like I suddenly remembered that I could work for it, and that it would be worth it to take a few risks.”

Even bites his lip, eyes wide and cautious, so Isak taps the tip of his nose with a finger to coax a smile out of him.

“Sorry, is that scary?” he asks.

“A little, but I know what you mean; it's,” Even starts and interrupts himself with a disbelieving little laugh. “It's sort of exactly how I feel about you too.”

Isak closes his eyes when Even runs a finger over the lines of his face and then catches his hand in his own, lacing their fingers together.

“It's a good thing we found each other then, isn't it?” he says, opening his eyes again to look right into the bright, sunny blue of Even's.

“A very good thing, yeah,” Even agrees.

For a while they lie there just looking at each other, Even's fingers slipping in and out of the gaps between Isak's to gently tease at the skin of Isak's fingers and palm, the back of his hand, his wrist – any part he can reach without moving too much. It tickles a bit, and it makes a part of Isak itch to grab at Even and kiss him _properly_. But it's also nice and sweet and Isak feels like there's nothing but Even, him, and their hands in their own little moment, and he's not ready to give it up. Just for a minute longer.

“You still think there's infinite Isaks and Evens lying exactly like this?” Even asks.

“Infinitely many, in infinite time,” Isak confirms.

“So even if we're not lying like this, even if we're fighting, maybe, there's always an Isak and an Even who live this moment at that same time?”

“Yeah,” Isak says, and scoots a little closer. “Wanna know a secret though?”

Even nods, tilting his head to connect his forehead with Isak's and brush their noses together.

“I don't think I've left this moment since we met. Even when we're fighting, a part of me is always right here in bed with you, absurdly happy,” Isak says, whispers almost, and feels his cheeks go hot.

Even stares at him and lets go of his hand in favour of putting his on Isak's cheek, slotting their mouths together in a deep, slow kiss. He holds Isak close and doesn't give him a moment to catch his breath, licks into his mouth like he's trying to crawl inside.

“I love you too,” he whispers when Isak pulls back and gasps for air. “More than I know what to do with sometimes.”

“We'll swap,” Isak says, pulling Even back in by the back of his neck and the front of his t-shirt, so the rest of his words are smudged against Even's lips. “My love for yours.”

Even laughs quietly and rolls on top of Isak, kissing him again.

“That seems fair,” he says in between kisses, when he's dipping his head lower to follow the line of Isak's neck with his mouth.

“Wait, what about the pancakes,” Isak says, when Even slots a leg between his and pushes the hem of Isak's t-shirt up with his hands.

“They're just as good cold,” Even says.

“The tea?” Isak asks, but he's grinning and raising his arms for Even so he can get his shirt off more easily.

“I love ice tea,” Even grins back, and drops Isak's shirt down onto the floor beside their bed where it's quickly joined by his own.

“Yeah, me too,” Isak says, grabbing for Even and pulling him back down on top of him.

 

The pancakes are just as good cold.

 

 

**The End**

 


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